


Blindsided

by philomel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blindfolds, D/s, Established Relationship, Kitchen Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philomel/pseuds/philomel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared ties one on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindsided

In the end, the thing he was the most worried about was the easiest to do.

It began at the end of the day, with the usual unchoreographed dance in the kitchen: dodging Sadie and Harley, skirting around each other to grab beers from the refrigerator and dog treats from the cabinet. The dogs shuffled out of the kitchen after Jared gave them what they wanted, although that didn't stop Sadie from one last hopeful glance on the way out.

Jared settled against the counter, hip digging into a drawer knob hard enough that it should have hurt. But he barely noticed, just stood there worrying his fingers on the inside of his back pocket, looking at Jensen while trying to not seem like he was looking at Jensen. Watching him over the lip of his beer, Jared took in the slump of his shoulders, the weary eyes, the stifled yawn as Jensen pressed the cold bottle to his forehead and leaned sideways into the refrigerator door.

"Headache?" Jared asked.

"Hmm." Jensen quirked his lips. "Not really." He tapped the mouth of the bottle against a spot just above the bridge of his nose. "This is where you whacked me when we were trying to run out the door in that one scene earlier."

"Oh. Does it hurt?"

"No." Jensen pressed his lips together. "It tickles."

Jared heard the deadpan in Jensen's voice, knew it for what it was. More passive than aggressive, with the hint of something of a dare. He walked over to Jensen slowly with his head tilted down, eyes locked on Jensen's. It probably looked silly, he thought. It definitely _felt_ silly. But Jensen didn't budge, except to set is bottle on the countertop. And when Jensen licked his lips reflexively, Jared found himself incapable of stopping until he was directly in front of him, eyeing his wet lips, nose angled close to Jensen's forehead. He lifted his hand to touch Jensen, stroking a finger over the spot on his forehead that was now pink from the chill of the beer bottle. Then he lowered his hand, easing his fingers up the inside of Jensen's arm, curling around his bicep just under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Remember when I accidentally grabbed you too hard here, that time I had to lift you off the floor? Does this still tickle?"

Jensen looked up at Jared, eyes shadowed by his lashes, his voice lowered. "No." He didn't move as Jared slid his fingers farther up his arm, pressing into the warm hollow and the denser hair there. "But I had little half moon marks on my arm for a week after that. You should cut your fingernails more often."

Barely resisting the urge to brush his fingers along the sensitive skin of Jensen's underarm, Jared slowly pulled his hand away, dragging his nails lightly over the swell of muscle and dipping into the crook on the inside of his elbow. He slipped his hand around Jensen's waist, smoothing over the thin cotton at the hem of his shirt, over the thicker cotton at the top of his jeans. Following the line of his belt, he walked around Jensen, breaking contact only for a moment before continuing to finger the soft leather at Jensen’s waist. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband, he pressed himself up against the entire length of Jensen's back, nose sliding into the prickly-soft hair along the back of his head.

"Remember," he mumbled into Jensen's hair, unhooking one thumb and slipping his hand up the front of Jensen's shirt to fit his palm over the curve of his abdomen. He finally felt Jensen move, a tiny twitch of muscle beneath his navel that made Jared grin in response. "Remember when I elbowed you in the gut that one time? _Right here._ Our first fight scene and you didn't duck fast enough."

"Huh." Jensen's stomach jumped against Jared's hand as Jensen let out the huff of air. "Your timing was off."

"Was not." Jared pulled back a little, moving his hands away from Jensen.

Jensen turned his head to the side and Jared could see the smirk at the corner of his lips. "Guess it's hard to see in the dark."

It was Jared's turn to smirk. He heard his cue. Reaching into his back pocket and leaning in close enough to fit his lips over the hole of Jensen's ear, he whispered, "Guess so."

He was quick — so quick that Jensen was still shivering from the breath on his ear by the time Jared had the cloth around Jensen's eyes. Jensen didn't struggle, but Jared could see the furrow in his brow even from the side view.

"What— what is this? An impromptu game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey?"

Tying the blindfold at the back of Jensen's head, Jared smiled and said, "Yes." He finished the knot and stroked his fingers down the nape of Jensen's neck, stopping at the collar. "Wait. That was innuendo, wasn't it?"

Jensen pushed his head backward, bumping against Jared's chin. "I can only assume you're playing the part of the ass."

"Well, just for that...." Abruptly, Jared backed away.

Jensen immediately turned in his direction, head bowed slightly so that Jared could see the tops of his eyebrows over the cloth of the blindfold. The spill of freckles on his cheeks and nose stood out against the black cotton, receding slightly as Jensen's skin flushed.

One elbow pressing back into the refrigerator for support, Jensen stretched an arm out in front of him. Jared was just out of reach.

"I know you're there," Jensen said. "Heightened senses and all that shit." His hand moved toward hs blindfold, his thumb just barely underneath it, slipping into the gap between his nose and cheek, when Jared lunged forward, pinning him to the refrigerator. He could feel the buzz of the machine straight through Jensen's body. He held Jensen's wrists tight against the door, on either side of his thighs, and drew himself up along Jensen. Jared moved his hips in slow circles against Jensen's, letting him feel how hard he was, feeling the hard press of Jensen match his own.

Leaning forward, Jared mouthed at the cloth over Jensen's eye, along the taught skin over his cheekbone, at the soft juncture between his cheek and ear, flicking his tongue up to feel the slight scrape of fabric just above it. "I'm here," he murmured along Jensen's jaw.

"No sh—" Jensen began before Jared kissed him hard on the lips. Jensen dropped his head back, angling against Jared, brazenly licking his way inside.

Their tongues tangled for an instant then Jared broke off, stilled completely, save for the movement of his lips as he spoke, close but not quite touching Jensen's. Quietly, he said, "Turn around."

Jensen didn't move, just stood there, breathing hard, hips straining almost imperceptibly toward Jared's.

Jared released his already loose grip on Jensen's wrists and teased his fingers up his arms. Cradling Jensen's head in his hands, he leaned in close and nuzzled the bottom lobe of Jensen's ear, then bit it. "Turn around," he repeated.

With his palms pressing into the refrigerator for leverage, Jensen maneuvered himself around until his chest and forehead were flat against the door. Lacing his fingers through Jensen's, Jared guided his hands up until their fingers hooked over the top of the refrigerator. Jared let go.

"Stay there," he said. Jensen did not move.

Jared's hands stroked down Jensen sides, settling on the bared skin where his shirt rode up. His thumbs smoothed circles against the small of his back, raising a ripple of goosebumps with each motion that seemed anachronistic to the sweat Jared could feel trickling down the dip of Jensen's spine. Jared stepped in closer, so that Jensen had to turn his cheek to the door. He tugged Jensen's hips back, centering the hard line of his cock along the crease down the back of Jensen's jeans. Looking up, Jared saw the white stretch of skin over Jensen's knuckles where he gripped the top of the door hard, and he grinned. He bucked once up into Jensen, leaning down to lick at the crook of his neck. Nudging the collar aside with his nose, he flicked his tongue against a patch of freckles between Jensen's neck and shoulder, then opened his mouth against the skin and grazed it with his teeth. It tasted mostly of salt, vaguely of soap. He licked once more, then again and again until he got Jensen to make a noise, any noise.

" _That_ tickles," Jensen said, then groaned when Jared nipped at him again.

"This might too," Jared said and slid his hands around Jensen's midsection, down the fronts of his thighs and up again, moving his fingers inward, brushing his fingertips along the sides of Jensen's crotch. Jared felt Jensen's breathing go shallower, watched as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple, absorbed by the blindfold. Another bead formed along Jensen's hairline. It shivered under the ragged breaths that rocked Jensen's body, and Jared licked it before it fell. As he traced Jensen's hairline with his tongue, he brushed his fingers down the front seam of Jensen's jeans. Jensen rolled his lip between his teeth, white under the bite then coloring deep red. Jared nudged a finger beneath the seam and ran it up along the zipper, following the hard line of Jensen's cock. He could feel the heat of it under his hand, feel the twitch as he rubbed his thumb over the spot where the head of Jensen's cock was trapped. The material felt damp.

Jensen keened. "Jared," he said, low and broken like a curse.

Jared hummed into his ear and pressed closer, Jensen moving against him with the ebb and flow of each breath. "Please?" Jared prompted.

"Yeah, that." Jensen hissed. And Jared's touches became lighter, no pressure where Jensen needed it.

"Want you to _say_ it." Jared's mouth ghosted over Jensen's — another tease without touch.

Futilely, Jensen followed Jared's lips, peeling his cheek away from the refrigerator with a sticky sound, eyebrows knitting together in frustration, obvious despite the cloth around his eyes. When he realized Jared's lips were out of reach, he pressed his face back into the door, rolling his forehead against the smooth surface. Stopping, he bit his lip again, inhaled sharply and — almost lost in the air of the exhale — said, "Please."

"What was that?" Jared couldn't hold back the wide smile.

Jensen drummed his fingers against the top of the refrigerator. "Don't press your luck."

Jared wanted to, but his resistance wasn't what it was when he'd started. And his willpower to toy with Jensen was being overrun by a need to stop playing and get on with it. He swiftly unbuckled Jensen's belt, undid his pants and shoved his jeans roughly down his thighs until they fell loose and hit the floor with a clunk of metal buckle against tile. Slipping his fingers inside the elastic of Jensen's underwear, he pulled those down as well, going down on his knees until the underwear was around Jensen's ankles: a puddle of dark blue cotton on faded blue denim. He poked Jensen in the back of the knee and Jensen made a soft noise, like a wheeze. So Jared did it again, and so did Jensen — which Jared thought was almost better than getting him to beg. But Jensen lifted his foot, and Jared eased the jeans and underwear over it until he was free. Jensen lifted the other foot before Jared could poke him in the back of the other knee, and Jared was almost tempted to tickle the arch of his foot before he decided that would _really_ be pressing his luck. Nothing spoiled the mood like being kicked in the face.

Gathering Jensen's clothes and shoving them away on the floor, Jared placed his hands along Jensen's thighs. His breath rustled the fine, light hairs as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on the inside of one thigh, close to Jensen's knee. He kissed a little higher on the opposite thigh. Then he licked a sharp line all the way up to the top of Jensen's thigh, hairs tickling his mouth along the way.

Jared sat back on his heels, dragged his thumb absently over his bottom lip and said, "Spread your legs, Jensen."

Jensen's obedience was a thing of beauty. Jared watched his bare feet inch apart — the balls of his feet sliding along the tiles, heels catching in the grouting before he moved again. A stain of sweat showed through Jensen's t-shirt, right down his spine. Sweat darkened the hair and cloth at his temples. It shone on his forearms. Jared imagined sweat running in rivulets down Jensen's belly, imagined it between Jensen's legs.

"Wider," Jared said. And Jensen spread apart even more until Jared said, "There."

Jensen's toes curled against tile, the muscles on his legs taut and clearly defined. Jared ran his hands up the outsides of Jensen's legs, feeling the muscles undulate beneath his touch. He dug his thumbs into the backs of Jensen's thighs, held on tight and leaned forward. Flicking his tongue out, he licked lightly at the crease of Jensen's ass. He barely parted the skin, but Jensen moaned loudly — so loudly, he cut it off, seemingly embarrassed by the open sound. Jared was having none of that. He licked again, tongue going deeper this time. Jensen's breath hitched. Jared slid his hands up, cupping Jensen's ass and spreading him wider still. His tongue slipped in, just above Jensen's hole and he licked up, all the way to the small of Jensen's back, tasting salt and musk. He heard a dull sound, as if Jensen had just thumped his head against the refrigerator. This time he went deeper, swiped his tongue right over Jensen's hole, swirling around it, then flicking short licks up and down the crease until Jensen was moaning and muttering something that sounded like a hybrid between Jared's name and a bitten-off curse.

"Fuck," Jensen said distinctly when Jared cupped his balls and rolled them, rubbing his thumb along his perineum with increasing pressure. Jared licked around his own thumb as it continued stroking Jensen, until it was slick with spit. Then he slid it up and pressed into Jensen's hole. He pushed gently into the tight ring of muscles, feeling it grip his thumb, pulling him even as he felt its resistance. He pulled out and Jensen's thighs trembled. He heard his name stutter out across Jensen's lips.

Reaching around, Jared felt Jensen's cock, solid and heavy and leaking precome over itself. He stroked Jensen a few times, feeling the liquid collect on his palm, between his fingers. Jensen rutted into each stroke, thrusting into Jared's too-loose fist, seeking friction. He whimpered when Jared let go, and Jared said, "Shhhh."

Jared tongued the backs of Jensen's balls, feeling the weight of them against his bottom lip. Then he slid a precome-coated finger down the crease of Jensen's ass and slipped it inside him. It went in smoothly up to Jared's middle knuckle. Then he pulled out and pushed in again, slowly, so slowly until his finger was completely inside Jensen. He twisted it around, feeling the slick slopes of muscle gripping him. His own cock twitched, achingly hard, in his jeans. He curled his finger, twisted and curled again and Jensen cried out and pushed back onto him. Jared could feel Jensen's balls tighten, smaller but still heavy against his lips. He drew them into his mouth again, then licked a wide swathe up behind them, up his perineum again and pushed his tongue alongside his own finger. It was too tight, almost impossible. But the tip of his tongue penetrated Jensen — a strange sensation as the taste buds felt almost rough against his finger, compared to the smooth skin inside Jensen. He twirled his tongue, pulled his finger nearly all the way out, curling it slightly before he pushed back in.

Jensen was shaking. Tremors ran up and down his arms where he clutched at the top of the refrigerator. His hips ground against the door in shallow thrusts as Jared tongue-fucked him. Jared spread Jensen even wider with one hand, then snuck his other around the front. With three more thrusts of his tongue and two pulls up the thick length of Jensen's cock, Jensen came hard and fast. Jared felt each pulse jerk in his hand as Jensen spilled onto his own stomach, onto the refrigerator door. Come trickled warm and thick over Jared's hand. The smell of it made his head swim, made him moan as he pulled back, licking still around Jensen's hole, stroking lightly at Jensen to bring him back down.

Jared sat back and watched Jensen cling to the refrigerator, muscles loosened and lax like he was just barely hanging on. "Can you turn around?" Jared whispered. And Jensen did, slowly, slouching his shoulders and sliding a little as he rested his back against the door. The blindfold was askew but still covered his eyes. Jared said, "You can take it off now.” And he let Jensen watch as he licked Jensen's belly and thighs clean.

Getting to his feet was a little harder than Jared realized it would be. He tottered a bit on sore knees. Spent as he was, Jensen managed to help Jared the rest of the way up.

Face to face, Jared leaned forward as if to kiss Jensen, then tugged at the hem of Jensen's shirt, and pulled it inside out over his head. He balled it up and reached around Jensen, wiping blindly at the refrigerator. When he finished, Jensen grabbed Jared's shirt with two fists — one still holding the blindfold — and yanked it off him. Jensen scrubbed the shirt down his own chest, dabbed between his legs. Then he tossed it aside.

"You missed a spot, " Jensen said, leaning back against the refrigerator.

"Huh," Jared said, grinning.

"So," Jensen said, a smirk returning to his red, bite-swollen lips. "What about you?"

Jared folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, what about me?"

Looking down, Jensen slowly wound the blindfold around his own palm as if he was dressing a wound. He grabbed one of Jared's hands and unwound the blindfold, wrapping it now around Jared's hand. He brought Jared's other hand up to wind the rest of the blindfold around it, cinching both hands together. Holding onto the end of the cloth, Jensen hooked his fingers between Jared's wrists and raised his eyes. The freckles stood out beneath the darkened green of his irises, making him appear all the more mischievous. By the look of him, Jared might have thought this had been Jensen's plan all along, not his own.

It seemed that getting the blindfold on Jensen was never really the problem. But Jared didn't think he was going to get off that easily. And he did mean that literally.

"Come on," Jensen said, grinning one-sidedly and walking backwards, taking Jared along with him.


End file.
